


to gather the pieces

by ValentinesValentine (UnfinishedProject)



Series: overcoming [2]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Comfort, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Forehead Kisses, Grief/Mourning, POV Male Character, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:02:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27603908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnfinishedProject/pseuds/ValentinesValentine
Summary: He's seen Nora laugh, he's seen her argue, he's seen her breathless from his kisses — and now he sees her hurt. He isn't sure what to do or what to say; he's never been through what she's experiencing now. He only knows that his place is beside her, stopping her from falling apart.
Relationships: Father | Shaun & Female Sole Survivor, Female Sole Survivor/X6-88, Synth Shaun & Female Sole Survivor
Series: overcoming [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018095
Comments: 10
Kudos: 10





	to gather the pieces

His gaze wandered to the clock she had stuck between picture frames, its face reading long past the time she asked to meet him. And, even though she didn't take missions as seriously he did, it wasn't like her to run late; not when they had plans for the night. On the radio, she said something about visiting Father on her way back — and it didn't feel appropriate to interrupt them. They had much to catch up on, much to discuss; and when it came to that, he was still just a synth. A synth with privileges like no other but he had no right to control her. She already gave him more than he deserved and sacrificed more than he was worth — it wouldn't be fair to ask even more of her. 

The lingering feeling in the back of his mind, that had him glance at the clock each time a minute was ticked away, filled him with anxiety beyond reason. It was no longer that delightful haze of anticipation that, if he'd allowed, would put a spring in his step at the thought of spending another night with her; naked bodies melding into one over tousled bedsheets. Instead, it was that same stabbing feeling that filled him whenever she acted reckless in battle; a helplessness he felt distant from yet responsible for. Just like those times, when he had to rush after her despite their plan of attack, he should've gone after her even if it was just a quick visit to the Commonwealth. He was still to protect her until Father commands otherwise. 

Barging into the Director's quarters was still out of the question but checking if she used the relay to return didn't feel outside of his authority. The usual glances followed him as he left her suite, walking down corridors his kind was rare to be seen on. He still felt uncomfortable under the scrutinizing gazes that tried to find answers to the same questions he did; what was it making him so special for her above all other units, what elevated him above the scientists in her eyes. And even though she assured him of gentle emotions and claiming no control over it — it was hard to believe when the Commonwealth, and even the Institute, was rife with dishonesty and lies, spite and envy. She was different but even she told only half truths sometimes; it was only from Ayo's sneering that he learned the price she agreed to pay for their privacy. He expected her to yell, to cry, to throw things at him when he confronted her — instead she just apologized, almost broken. She said, she didn't want him to feel as if he was bought, as if he had no choice in the matter; and, that hopefully, she was far from taking over the leadership. 

He almost forgot why he was poring over the relay logs as he dwelled on the promise he made; swearing to himself and her that he'd never make her cry again. Her face lit up with a smile at that and he breathed a sigh of relief just like now as his finger draw a line under her identification code. She was back safe then, just delayed — by almost an hour by the time he made it back to the bottom of the dome. His eyes cast about the tower that topped out with the Director's suite, wondering if it would look suspicious or overprotective if he'd waited on the corridor there. 

The glass cage, that reminded him of the busted windows of stores in the Commonwealth, was empty as it has been for weeks now — she wouldn't hear about S9-23 being displayed like some kind of trophy. Her action caused uproar but most personnel, even if begrudgingly, accepted the decision since then. He didn't much care either way, he had no sway in decisions she or the Directorate made; but, for once, he wished that the child was still present. He could ask, without stepping out of place, if she was still here or if she arrived at all. The door to the suite was left open, and he wondered if she left in a hurry and now waited for him where they were supposed to meet long ago. He considered treading back but the laboured breath that filtered from the upper level held him back. 

He wasn't sure whose it was. He didn't stop to think if it was appropriate for him to enter. If she was hurt, it was still his job to protect her; no matter who from, he had to, he _wanted to_. And, if it was Father, made aware of his health by her nervous ramblings, protocols be damned if he wouldn't attempt to help. His hurried steps came to a halt at the foot of the bed; made clear who he heard. He dropped into a crouch by her side, laying a hand on her back as her body was rocked by another fit of crying. She didn't seem aware of his presence or touch, gripping his son's hand with both as she was collapsed on the edge of the bed. 

"Nora?" She always had a soft smile on her lips whenever he called her name since — but she hasn't shown any sign she heard him. His fingers glided up her back, unhurried and careful as they tangled into her hair; revealing part of her face. Her skin glistened in the strong light, eyelashes sticking to freckled cheeks. Her eye cracked open as he repeated her name; bloodshot and filled with even more tears. "Let him go. You can't help anymore." 

It would've been hard to tell if she had time for goodbyes but she was helping no one in her current state. She only shook her head at him, burying her face against Father's side again, sobbing out words that were too faint to hear. He felt conflicted over what to do; he didn't want to leave her here while alerting Volkert but he couldn't just drag her through the concourse with himself — for neither of their sake. He pressed a light kiss to where his fingers caressed her scalp just a moment ago, whispering assurances that he wouldn't be gone long. 

"Hey, you!" The passing lab assistant jumped at his voice before distaste reclaimed his features. He hoped to run into a worker from sanitation or any synth rather than personnel — and while there was no real urgency to it, he wasn't a gambling man. "Get Doctor Volkert immediately. Director's order." 

There was still hesitation on his face, gauging the truth in his words — bounding down the stairs towards the medical center shortly. He breathed a sigh of relief as the liberties he'd taken weren't challenged; then climbed the stairs again. Minutes passed with him crouching by her side, just holding her and whispering what he hoped were soothing and comforting words. Even though he had clumsy attempts at confessing his feelings for her, he was still lacking when it came to human emotions. 

"Nora?" She reacted much the same to his voice as before, blinking slowly, almost confused at him. "Let go, Nora." He pleaded, probably for the first time in his life, when approaching footsteps scaled the stairs. Words were croaked out that sounded much like refusal but he had to get her out of the way. He tried to be careful prying off her fingers from Father's hand, both for her comfort and respect for the dead. It didn't take as long he expected and she didn't fight back; just let him take the weight of her numb body. His arm wrapped around her waist and another hand tangled into her hair as she clung to him, almost how he cradled her close in moments of intimacy. 

"I'm afraid I can't do anything." He only nodded to Volkert's words, unsure if she was aware of the conversation around her. She was still trembling with sobs in his hold, sucking in short, sharp breathes that reminded him of more delightful pastimes. His palm ran along her spine and she leaned into his touch, seeking out its warmth. 

"And what about her?" He's made a vague gesture with the hand tangled in her hair. He was aware of chems but he's never approved of her use of anything but stimpaks — and, if he could avoid it, he wouldn't want to drug her against her will. There was an expression on Volkert's face he couldn't quite read as he gazed up from tending to Father's lifeless form; pity perhaps. But they didn't look at each other long enough for him to find out, turning his gaze back to her; it seemed she was calming down some but he couldn't be sure. 

"Better let her cry it out. And make sure she drinks enough." He offered his brief gratitude, adjusting his hold on her — it might not been dignified, but it was the easiest to carry her. Fists made a few, feeble raps against his back and breathless, she muttered about her place being by her son. She meant him more than he ever expected to and he wanted to give her everything — but he knew it wouldn't be helping anyone. What she needed was rest and hydration, and to calm down and see things rationally. It was simple for him to remain collected despite feeling miserable seeing her suffering; emotions were still new to him, and he hasn't shared as deep a bond with Father as she did. 

He wondered what it was like and, if ever, his feelings would be alike towards her. He couldn't have his own child to experience parenthood, and, even though in the first couple days she came close with her childishness, he's been looking at her differently from the beginning. He found her an annoyance, as if he was trusted with her protection to punish him — but damn, she charmed him enough that he didn't even hesitate when she invited him into her bed. And now he was a fool that followed her around, always there to catch her when she faltered — and he's never thought about sharing more than that; or losing what little he had. 

"Lie down. I'll be right there, Nora." She's quieted down by the time they reached her suite, swaying on unsteady legs in front of him. Her cheeks were still wet under his fingers, cradling her face in a hand as his lips pressed a soft kiss against her forehead. She disentangled from his hold with a small nod, curling up on the sheets. He couldn't have taken more than a minute to fill up a glass with water and place it on the nightstand before lying next to her — but she was already asleep when he pulled the covers over her body. 

He wasn't sure how much time passed exactly, only that the day cycle turned into night with her slumbering against his side. At some point, she found him, clinging to him like any night they shared a bed. His fingers tangled into her hair, rubbing at her scalp or brushed down her back with gentle caresses, soothing her in her sleep. She made soft noises, sniffles and whimpers — but she didn't trash around like she did when suffering from nightmares. He was still awake, with a hand resting against the small of her back when puffy eyes blinked up at him, trying to chase the grogginess away. 

"Hey, Nora." His hand moved back up again, cradling a cheek into his palm as she mumbled a greeting and the name she chose for him in return. She lifted up, seeking his lips for a kiss that was soft and short; and their chapped feel reminding him of the doctor's advice. It proved a little complicated to reach the glass with his reluctance to let go of her, draping her over his chest in the end. She made a soft sound, not quite laughter, but he was more than happy to hear that instead of her seemingly endless sobbing. There was water running down her chin and it was almost a reflex to wipe at her skin with a thumb; whether it was his make of hers. 

"What happens now?" He assumed she wasn't talking about the next few hours — for which he still had ideas even if to take her mind off of things. But she was nestled against his side, with her head resting on his shoulder without any sign for more intimacy. Her fingers laced with his as she peered up at him, small and warm in his hand. He pondered the answer just as he did while she slept, unsure what the future held for her, for the Institute; for them. She was named Director by Father and he knew she accepted the position; but not everyone was pleased with that, maybe not even her. 

"That's for you to decide, Director." He wished there was an easy, comforting answer he could give her — but everything became complicated in his life when she walked into it. The only thing he was certain about was his loyalty; to her, more than for the Institute itself. He already confessed to her that she proved everything wrong he believed about her, seeing that Father's confidence in her wasn't unfounded — and now he couldn't really imagine anyone better to lead them. 

* * *

It seemed the first step was a funeral. He never attended one, synths weren't allowed before — but she insisted he stood there by her side. There was only a handful of them, scientists who were around longer; who might've even seen themselves as friends. And the child was there too, clinging to his mother like she clung to him. At first, only her fingers laced with his, an innocent enough gesture not to attract undue attention. But, as people told stories, with admiration and sorrow in their voices, she pressed against his side, hiding her damp face against his neck.

He felt detached from the loss, death too much a part of his life as a courser. The only leader to the Institute he knew was Father, but, despite the name, he didn't have attachments — he only knew duty and obedience before. And even though he owed his existence to the man, it was her alone that gave it meaning, a more worthy purpose. And it was in that complexity she brought into his life that feeling of pain and sorrow for seeing her hurt, suffering for something that wasn't her make. He soothed her as best he could, wrapping arms around her and holding her close, whispering words of comfort between stolen kisses — but she still fell asleep with tears in her eyes and grasping at his undershirt as if he'd disappear from her life, too. And even now, he whispered encouragement to her as she stepped forward, the last one to address the people gathered around. 

"I wish I had as many memories to share about my son as you have. I even envy some of you," he followed her gaze to Li and Fillmore, knowing that she didn't say it with despise. "For spending so much time with him. And I have to thank you for looking after him, for being there for him when I couldn't. When I met him first, at the hospital, he charmed me even though I wasn't ready to be a mother at the time. It's strange how I've been relieved of that burden. But he's found a place to call home, people to call family — and as a mother, his happiness means everything to me. I couldn't see him grow up but I saw the man he grew up to be and it's hard not to feel proud of his, of your shared achievements. 

"Meeting him again, here in the Institute, was the strangest experience of my life. A mother should be happy to see her child again after such a long time. Yet, I was angry and disappointed in him. But he was patient with me, let me take the steps whenever I wanted; I know he wanted the best for me as he wanted the best for all of us. That's why I hope I can be half the leader he was, that I can build his legacy with you as he'd want." There was a moment of silence as she steeled herself for the closing words. "Goodbye, Shaun. And say hi to Nate for me." 

She was crying again, softly, as she stepped back into his embrace. A murmur ran through the people as the soil was returned to its place, saying their own goodbyes and condolences. Soon it was only the three of them left by the grave; him, her and the child she's been hugging close to herself. It took her a while to calm down, looking up at him with eyes glinting with unshed tears and a small, bitter smile. She whispered words of gratitude for his support and the child's, something he waved off as natural even if it wasn't in his programming before, reassuring her with a gentle kiss to her forehead. She purred, enjoying his warmth for another moment longer before disentangling from his hold; only slipping a hand into his. 

"Come, darling. We have a lot to do."


End file.
